Renegade
by lin090
Summary: Dean/Cas. AU, but the 'verse is close to canon. Cas is a detective who refuses to believe that serial killer Dean Winchester is dead. This is the fifth time he's been confirmed dead. His investigation brings him face to face with the dead man and the demon whose torturous possession has overshadowed his entire life


_I'm doing NaNoWriMo this month, which means, although I'd love to, I don't have time to work on the sequel I promised for "If I'm Drowning..."_

_Much apologies. It WILL DEFINITELY still happen. It's half written_

_Here is a short fic I haven't uploaded here yet (but was written before NaNo) as a peace offering :)_

_It started off rather simple, but escalated quite considerably_

_Hope you enjoy! Let me know if you do!_

* * *

"He's not dead."

"Sure Novak. His body's rotting at the county morgue, I've seen it myself."

"This isn't the last of Dean Winchester. It never is. You're not the first man to have killed him, you won't be the last."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"This man's been on the national watch list 5 times in as many years. Each time he's been killed. Confirmed dead by the agency. Then again." He opens the file and shows Riddick. "Look. Same guy, it's always the same guy."

* * *

Cas knows he shouldn't have flown out to South Dakota. He's wearing a battered old black suit and trench coat against the stiff wind but it isn't enough. He shivers as he gets out his rental and pulls at his tie. Cas has always hated ties.

He splashes through the puddles up to the door of the decrepit old house.

Sheriff Mills hadn't been home. Her neighbours told Cas she was probably with the town drunk, one Bobby Singer. Cas had cocked his head in curiosity. The Sheriff and the drunk?

He knocks now, loosening the tie again because he can't breathe and he knows he looks enough of a mess as it is. The flight from Washington had been 5 hours and a change along the way. The rental car was small and dirty and groaned when he got anywhere near the speed limit.

"Hello?"

A medium height, middle aged woman with brown hair and brown eyes greets him with suspicion. At first glance she looks ordinary in every way, but Cas has been trained to look past his initial perceptions and he notices the way she holds herself, just an edge of tension. He notices the suspicion in her voice, but the heart beneath it. He notices the way she stands with one hand on the door and one on the frame, ready, but not threatening.

A middle aged man is behind her.

"Sherriff Mills?" Cas asks getting his badge out. He has to twist it to show the right way up and feels instantly clumsy. He gets the feeling the Sheriff would never have that problem.

"Castiel Novak," she reads, eyebrows coming together. "FBI?"

The man behind her surges forward but she stays her ground.

"How may I help?" she asks and there are different strains running in her question. She's willing, but still wary.

"I'm here to ask you about a case of yours from several years ago," Cas flusters. He's never been as cool as an agent should be, spends most of his time behind the scenes. Now though he has questions nobody else can ask. "The case involving Dean Winchester."

"Dean's dead," the man growls behind her but the only shoots him a quelling look and straightens herself.

"I thought the Winchester case was closed," Sherriff Mills says simply.

"It was. Except last week Dean Winchester died again. There are now five accounts of Dean Winchester's death. You'll have to forgive me for being thorough this time."

Sheriff Mills nods. "You better come in then."

Out of the wind and the darkness Cas feels no less uneasy. The house is old wood and dark colours, greens and reds. It's filled with books and more books. There's a fire going and the remains of a dinner on the kitchen table.

"I apologise..." Cas says as he sees it but Sheriff Mills shakes her head and shrugs.

"Not really hungry now anyway."

She gestures for Cas to sit on a ragged couch in a ragged lounge. He does and she sits opposite on the edge of an old wingback. Singer remains standing in the doorway. Cas thinks the older man should be better at hiding his feelings.

"Listen Agent Novak, Dean's dead so I'm going to say this to you straight. You guys have the wrong idea about the man. Dean Winchester saved us all. Saved many other people too."

"I came to ask you what he was like," Cas says looking down. The Sheriff falls quiet at that, her whole demeanour changing. "I've been researching the Winchester case since before I joined the bureau. There are many conflicting accounts."

"Son this case started before you were even out of college, don't pretend you understand," Singer hissed from the doorway.

Cas turns his intent gaze on the man for the first time. He is wearing a baseball cap.

"I know that yes. I also know that there is nobody in this country who knows more on the case than I do. Do not presume because I am young that I am ignorant."

"Bobby," Mills says and the man huffs a sigh before shutting up. "What exactly do you want to know?"

Cas clears his throat. He's not entirely sure, just that he wants his belief affirmed.

"I know that there were few bodies recovered. Many that were found were beyond proper forensic examination. I know people have never been found, people attributed to Dean's growing list." He falls so easily into calling the killer by his first name. "I also know that there are more eyewitness accounts that say Dean had saved them. A few talked of monsters. I believe many more wanted to."

"Do you believe in monsters Agent Novak?"

Cas doesn't answer the question. "What is your opinion of Dean Winchester?" he asks instead.

"That he's a hero."

"Not a killer?"

"He's a killer yes," Mills smiles. "But he's a better person than any of us."

"I don't... understand."

"Some things deserve to get put down," Mills says evenly. "Not people. Dean never killed a person. Even when he should have."

Her eyes are set, jaw clenched. She has utter conviction in what she is saying.

"I see," Cas says looking down at his hands folded in his lap.

"Dean Winchester is the reason you're still here to make his life a living hell," Singer says, voice like rocks clashing in a river bed. "

"Make?"

Singer's miss stepped but Cas lets it go when the man says no more. It only confirms what he already knows. Dean Winchester is alive and is nothing the FBI ever suspected.

* * *

He makes his goodbyes, strangely satisfied by his short meeting. They follow him to the front door, no doubt wanting to make sure he leaves and never comes back.

On the doorstep though Cas runs into a man with light brown hair and large hazel eyes.

He's seen the face a thousand times before, the barely visible freckles, the unapologetic grin. Still he's amazed by the man, just how beautiful he is with the shots of green amongst the hazel, the long curling eyelashes and almost delicate nose.

"Whoa hey buddy," Dean Winchester laughs picking Cas up with strong hands as he half falls. There's engine grease under his nails, his knuckles are split.

It's all he can do to straighten himself without emptying his stomach on America's most wanted.

Mills and Singer have frozen in the hallway. Only Dean seems unaffected.

"What?" the grins looking at the three of them. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Cas pulls his gun, more a reflex than that he means to. "Dean Winchester, you are under arrest for the murders of 25 people."

* * *

He had cuffs on him. Cas had held up his badge so Dean could see who he was before gesturing for his hands. Cas has the strange thought that Dean had quieted Mills and Singer in the house, stopping them from knocking him out and going on the run with Dean.

Now he's pacing Singer's garage, Dean cuffed in the middle of the room, sitting on a rusted chair.

"You haven't called for backup yet," Dean says as Cas taps him phone against his chin.

"No."

"You gonna? Because I have a pretty short attention span and this is already getting old."

Cas glares at him. "You're a serial killer!"

"Is that really what you believe? I'm betting not or I wouldn't be here now."

Cas takes a deep breath and purposefully stops his twitching. Dean Winchester confuses him in ways no man should be able to. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"Aw doubt. It's a long fall Cas, you can still call the cops, still get the big reward for finding Dean Winchester."

Cas frowns. He has no idea why Dean has decided to shorten his name to Cas, why he's being so familiar and calm.

"I could," Cas tells him. "I don't know why I don't."

"Maybe because you know there's more to this."

"Maybe it's because I know if I turn you in you'd just turn up somewhere else in a year and I'd have to start the hunt all over again."

"As good a reason as any."

"No. This is my career. I've worked towards this day for eight years and when I find you... I can't believe what I've read."

"Good or bad?" Dean asks still with the same light and jocular attitude.

"Bad Dean. They say you've killed 25 people. In twelve years. What I don't understand is why there're so many people protecting you. People like Sheriff Mills."

Dean shrugs against his binds. "Because otherwise the world would have to see the evil I fight." He holds Castiel's eyes for longer than anyone's managed before, till it's Cas who squirms and looks aside. "You've seen it." The words are a revelation, Dean comes to see it at the exact moment he speaks. "You've seen something inhuman, monstrous. You've seen something that keeps you up at night, makes you question all those times your parents told you that the monster under the bed wasn't real, that you were safe."

Cas steps back. He's deeply uncomfortable by what this man sees in him.

"I..."

"It's not a nightmare Cas. Tell me. What did you see?"

Cas is transported back to when he was eighteen years old. The darkness encroaches, the dim light of stars, the stink of sulphur. It couldn't have been human. And then there was the smoke.

"A demon," Cas says. He's read enough lore to know the signs. He'd seen a demon that night. He comes forward, crouches before Dean, tries to see the truth in those handsome features.

"Demons are bastards Cas. You're lucky to be alive."

"It was in my head. It was controlling me."

"You were possessed."

"I was evil."

"That was the demon. Cas you were attacked, violated. Whatever happened, it's not your fault."

Cas so desperately wants to believe him. He's spent too much of his life guilty and afraid.

"I want to hunt the bastard down and kill him."

"You know what that means, don't you? They'll think you're a killer, just like they do me."

Cas shrugs, eyes averted, until Dean lowers his head, gets in his face even though he's still cuffed.

"Cas you'd have to give up everything."

"It's worth it," Cas whispers feeling Dean's comforting gaze. "So he doesn't... he's done it to other people hasn't he?"

"Yeah Cas. Yeah I'm sure he has. But you have no idea who he even is..."

"I do," Cas says jaw tightening. "His name was Alistair."

Cas undid the restraints.

Dean had grabbed him then, standing and pulling at Cas so he came with him. For a moment Cas is terrified. He's too startled to block Dean, too unsteady to do anything but lean into his grasp.

"Alistair?"

There was fear in Dean's green eyes, the hazel retreating as his pupil did. They were standing under a spotlight, skin bleached.

"That name... it means something to you?"

Dean shuffles his feet uncomfortably. "You could say that yeah."

"He possessed you too?" Cas asks feeling like he might just throw up. An hour before he hadn't even let himself believe in that terrible night. Now he has to think about it happening to other people too. One of those being Dean. Dean not-actually-a-serial-killer Winchester who has drawn and amazed Cas ever since he first saw his picture in the national news. Dean had been 26, Cas 23 and applying for his first post at the bureau.

"Na," Dean says, trying a smile but falling short. "But there are more ways demons can fuck with you."

Cas lets out a little sound of anguish. Dean puts a hand on his arm, warm and comforting. Cas can't remember the last time anyone tried to touch him like that. He knows he's been distant since Alistair, unable to accept the comfort his friends have tried to give him. He lets Dean though.

It's at that moment that Mills and Singer try to exact a rescue. An unneeded rescue as it turns out. They crash into Cas before they have a chance to see, pinning him to the concrete floor.

"Whoa Bobby man, get off him," Dean says pulling the bearded man back. "It's cool. We're cool. Leave him alone."

They're still wary of Cas, even as Dean claps a hand on his new friends shoulder and explains all about Cas's demon. He doesn't mention Alistair's name and Cas wonders if he's hiding something from them.

* * *

A year goes by of hunting and close escapes. No more agents come after Dean, everyone believes him dead. Cas had gone MIA and therefore there were cops after him, but he wasn't hunted and most gave up quickly. He found he was able to move easier than expected.

He travels with Dean and occasionally his brother Sam. He likes Sam but he never feels quite at ease with the younger Winchester. He's supposed to be dead too and although he has an open and honest way he doesn't understand like Dean does.

Sam used to be a hunter, but he's picked up his studies again. Sam never wanted this life. Not like Dean does. Dean who needs revenge on every monster for every wrong they've ever committed against anyone.

Not like Cas does.

Sometimes he wonders why he's so focussed on the hunt. He wants Alistair, but there's more now. He wants Dean to find the peace he's seeking.

* * *

They find Alistair one cold winter's day. Ice is in the wind and Cas huddles close to Dean as they wait.

It's a case, run of the mill and simple. Until Cas feels the shadow and knows there's no ghost here. He grabs Dean's arm, pulls his closer. His forehead bumps Dean's and the other hunter lifts his chin so their lips meet.

It's enough to send Cas's thoughts spiralling for a moment but all too soon they sway away and Dean breaths a long breath out over his lips.

"He's here," Cas says.

Dean nods and brackets Cas's face with his hands. "You gonna be ok?"

"I've been waiting for this since I was 18 years old..."

Dean looks sad. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes I do."

"Cas," Dean tries gently.

"Don't be a hypocrite Dean," Cas says, pitching his voice so it's not offensive but instead speaks of the depth of his knowledge about the other man, how they're the same. "You can't stop either."

Dean takes his hand then. "No, I can't. But Alistair is stronger than anything we've ever fought before. He's faster, meaner."

"And so am I Dean."

* * *

Alistair stood before the great window and watches the clouds move across the moon.

"Hello Dean," he smiles as the two hunters enter the room. "And Castiel." He turns then showing the harsh angles of his new vessels face.

"Alistair," Cas greets him gripping his knife all the tighter. "It's been a long time."

"Yet you still wake up, late at night. You still hear their screams don't you Castiel?"

"Of course I do," Cas answers taking Alistair's callous evil and wrapping it around himself like armour.

Dean's eyes dart between the man and the demon.

"There is much more you do not remember Castiel," the demon mocks.

"I remember enough to know you need to be put down."

"Oh but this isn't about me. Dean?"

The hunter takes a step back as if caught in the act.

"Dean?" Cas asks. He wants to reach for the hunter but he can't show such weakness before a demon. It's all in his eyes and his voice anyway.

Dean drops his eyes momentarily before raising them in defiance to Alistair.

"Go ahead. Tell him your truths and pretend they're better than my lies."

Cas reaches for Dean. The heartbreak in his voice too much to bear. He takes the hand of the man he's spent every day with for the past year, ever since he arrested him and his truth had been confirmed.

Dean's hand shakes but he grips Cas tight.

"Did you ever wonder why you were so sure Dean Winchester wasn't dead?" Alistair asks, his voice making Cas's skin crawl.

After a moments though he can't take it any longer and shoots Alistair through the head.

"Cas!"

Dean's in front of him instantly as Alistair brings his head back up the bullet hole disappearing already.

"Not from him," Cas says and as he eyes the demon it grins, approving.

"I know you," Dean says with a heavy breath. He's almost panting as he struggles with his story. "I don't mean like now, I mean I Know you. Before. Before you even showed up at Bobby and Jody's. Cas. Cas you have to try to remember. It's a lie, it's all a lie."

Dean reaches for his face, cupping his jaw and tearing at his heart.

"Don't you remember. I was 19 when Sam died. 19 and stupid but you came for me, don't you remember Cas. I sold my soul and you came."

He grips Cas tighter, the pressure almost painful on the former detectives jaw.

"Alistair tortured me, 40 years Cas, or 4 months. Time passes differently on earth. Then you came."

Cas feels the truth of it but he wants to argue, cry out that it can't be true. He's just a MIA detective who was once possessed by a demon.

"We broke free. When I saw you on Jody's doorstep I knew, but you didn't. You didn't remember and you were human. I thought you'd gone back to heaven, forgotten about me."

"I..." But he could not say he didn't remember, it was a lie as the memories woke in his mind. At one time he had been different, he was been beautiful and full of grace. "I gave up my grace to find you."

Dean let out a sob. "For me?"

"Yes," Cas says though he can barely believe it himself. "I pulled out my grace and I chose a mortal life." He grips Dean's wrist tight. "But I forgot, I was not allowed my memories, just a human vessel whose soul had departed. I tried to find you."

It was why he had been so sure Dean was alive. He knew Dean Winchester, knew the things the man was capable of. Castiel was sure that his heart would break if Dean ever died, there was a bond between them even if he hadn't been consciously aware of it before.

Alistair laughs long and low. "Imagine my surprise when I possessed a former angel of the lord, the very one who had stolen my favourite prize."

Dean pulls Cas back. "Ready?" he whispers and of course the former angel is. He pulls a whip of leather inlaid with small barbs of iron and lashes Alistair around the throat. The demon screams as the iron digs in. Cas covers his head with a bag covered in demon proof sigils as Dean goes for his arms and legs. He's powerful but caught off guard and helpless when held with iron and old magic. Alistair can't escape the body, can't move.

"The Colt?" Cas asks and he receives the only gun in existence capable of actually killing a demon dead. They could exorcise him, destroy the body but he'd always come back. The Colt is the only way.

Alistair chuckles. "Cold blooded killer or angel of the lord?"

Cas spares a glance for Dean and shoots Alistair through his breastbone.

"Angels are warriors," he spits as the body crumples and the killing wound flickers with lightning and fire.

* * *

Dean takes the Colt out of his trembling fingers. "Cas? There was never a good time to tell you."

"I doubt I would have believed you."

"That you're a fallen angel, no."

Cas tries to steady himself. Over, it's finally over. Except it's only just begun. He's an angel and he remembers, not everything, for his brain is still human and can't cope with the weight of angelic knowledge but he knows enough.

"Are you going to go looking for your grace?"

"I fell for you Dean. And now I've finally found you... why would I leave?"

Dean sways slightly, he can't believe what his angel is telling him.

"But heaven! All that power. Wings!"

Cas shrugs it off. It doesn't seem that appealing.

"Cas? Why? I don't... understand. You dove into hell to save me."

"Orders," Cas replies coolly.

"Yeah, well ok, I get maybe the big man upstairs has plans for me, but... you fell?"

Cas turns to him fully and takes the hunters hands in his own. "When I entered hell there was nothing but darkness, blood and fire. Then I saw you, shining. I had never seen anything so beautiful." His human mind can't picture the beauty of that moment any longer, it's diluted, seen in human colours. He doesn't mind though because he has Dean once more. "I could not go the rest of my existence without knowing that man. Intimately."

He rocks onto the balls of his feet, pushing a chaste kiss to Dean's lips.

"Oooh intimately," Dean gets it with a sigh.

Alistair is dead. Cas can lie those nightmares to rest now. There will be more to come, but in truth he has accepted that. With time maybe he'll even be able to lay Dean's demons to rest.


End file.
